<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>sunset town by hyucksworld</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791716">sunset town</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyucksworld/pseuds/hyucksworld'>hyucksworld</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Absent Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Boats and Ships, Boys In Love, Drug Abuse, Established Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Fluff, Gangs, Gun Violence, Huang Ren Jun is Bad at Feelings, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lee Jeno is Whipped, M/M, Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Multi, Self-Harm, Summer, Summer Romance, Tagging as I go, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Smoking, cheating? but not rly?, chenles kind of an alcoholic idk, it's basically an outerbanks au minus the outerbanks plotline, jisung juuls, kind of, mark owns a boat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:31:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyucksworld/pseuds/hyucksworld</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The salty air strikes at Jeno's face relentlessly and the tears trailing down his cheeks do little to stop the stinging. In his left hand is his bracelet, clenched tightly as though it'd disappear if he could no longer feel the weight of it in his hands. He can't help it, as it's the only thing grounding him. Renjun isn't looking at him anymore, his attention instead invested in the way he cards his fingers through Jaemin's hair, his own bracelet glistening under the moonlight. Jeno knows begging is a lost cause, he knows that Renjun won't ever forgive him, but he'll be damned if he doesn't beg and scream until his vocal cords tear themselves apart. </p>
<p>"Renjun," Jeno calls desparately, "Please! I never meant for this to happen! I love you."</p>
<p>Renjun chokes out a strangled laugh, his own tears spilling over as he pulls Jaemin's limp body closer to him, "That's too bad."</p>
<p>Or, </p>
<p>The story of Jeno moving to a small town, where he finally experiences what it's like to make friends, fall in love, and have his heart broken more times than he can count. It's a summer that will go down in the history books, for all the right and wrong reasons, and it's all thanks to Na Jaemin and his boyfriend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Welcome To The Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is kind of based off of Outerbanks and is also inspired by the We Go Up and Go MV's. There is a similarity to the show, however it only sets up the town. I do not plan on copying the show for the most part. Also, this fic is a technically a Norenmin fic, but Markhyuck play a big part as well, so the chapters may vary in terms of who's story it is telling. </p>
<p>Here are some things you should know before reading, although I do my best to explain them throughout:<br/>- Fort One: The town the story takes place. <br/>- Cherry: The rich side of Fort One. <br/>- The Fallout (Fall): The poor side of Fort One. <br/>- Boston: Donghyuck's beloved aluminum baseball bat. <br/>- Brooklyn: The name of Mark's boat. </p>
<p>Please make sure to READ THE TAGS THROUGHLY. This fic is going to get heavy. If you're uncomfortable with any tags, please DO NOT read.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mark is well aware that he’s going twenty-five above the speed limit while he’s in a school zone. He knows that he really should slow down, especially before he accidentally kills some poor helpless kid or gets pulled over and be forced to deal with some racist officer, yet he can’t bring himself to do it. Not when Donghyuck is hanging out of the passenger window of his old, rusty Volkswagen van, screaming euphorically at the top of his lungs as they whisk past the downtown area of their small town.</p>
<p>Fort One is an old fishing and beach town centered smack dab on the coast of the Florida peninsula. It’s technically considered to be two separate towns that are connected by the big iron bridge that connects the bigger island of Cherry to the smaller city known as the Fallout. The Fallout, affectionately named the Fall by the locals, has been the working class’ domain for decades now— and it shows. The houses are practically falling apart, dilapidated over years of nobody having the money to do more than duct tape repairs. The kids who live there start working at a young age by going out on the fishing boats or cleaning the big, expensive yachts the residents of Cherry own. The adults are notorious for not really giving a damn about their kids unless they’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere, and usually the only time they’re around is to collect however much money the kid earned that week.</p>
<p>Cherry, however, is the exact opposite. Cherry makes up the entire neighboring island, full of families that are dirty rich from old plantation money. They’ve got big mansions with big, green lawns and big, shiny yachts to match. For a Fall kid, Cherry is practically a dream world.</p>
<p>Which is why Mark is sort of sketched out, eyeing the way Donghyuck is leaning precariously out of the window, seemingly not giving a damn about his life (as usual), spitting as he screeches dirty remarks. Mark has half the mind to say something to him, because at this rate they will get pulled over, but he is beaten to the task when Renjun pipes up from his spot in the back.</p>
<p>“Do you always have to be so fucking loud?” Renjun complains, not even sparing a glance up from the paperback in his hands. Jaemin snorts at the comment, his head of pink hair ducked low, perched sideways on the seat next to him as he brings a freshly rolled joint up to his mouth to lick at the paper with nimble fingers.</p>
<p>“These fuckers need to know who’s king around here!” Donghyuck retorts, pointing at one of the rich white ladies taking a stroll down the boulevard, “And that their dog looks like a fucking mop!”</p>
<p>“You know, you’ve got to give it to him,” Jaemin hums, having successfully lit up the joint. He blows smoke out of the open window and relaxes into the cloth seats, “Cherry dogs are ugly.”</p>
<p>Donghyuck beams and finally reels himself back into the van, “Thank you, Jaemin.”</p>
<p>“Why are we here anyway?” Renjun asks, bookmarking his spot.</p>
<p>“I need to check on the March’s yacht,” Mark says, turning left down one of the side streets that lead up to the hilly areas of Cherry, “They’re heading out later today and wanted me to make sure it’s all set to sail.”</p>
<p>“They can’t do that shit themselves?” Renjun scoffs, “It doesn’t take much to haul their asses down to the dock and make sure they’ve got enough champagne and cheese platters.”</p>
<p>“It’ll take two minutes,” Mark promises as he turns into a long circle driveway. The teal paint of his rusty old van sticks out like a sore thumb among all of the lacquered Mercedes parked out front by the gate.</p>
<p>“That’s exactly why they could’ve done it themselves,” Renjun swats at some of the smoke coming from Jaemin’s joint, “And why did we have to come with you?”</p>
<p>“Moral support,” Mark gestures vaguely, “Besides, we have to pick up Chenle.”</p>
<p>Renjun huffs, but doesn’t ask any more questions. Chenle Zhong being the only member of their tight knit group that’s from Cherry isn’t exactly ideal, but it works. He was born and raised in Cherry, a proper rich kid at heart, the pride and joy of the town and his parents little bundle of joy— up until he turned fifteen and decided to say “fuck this” to the fancy yacht parties and soulless rich kids Cherry has to offer. Now he’s bumming with their crew, sipping Budweiser out of a glass bottle on the deck of Mark’s boat while he raves about saving the sea turtles.</p>
<p>“Two minutes,” Mark promises before taking off. He walks down the stone pathway to the big cast iron gate that keeps the backyard on lockdown. He flips the code box open and punches in the pin, watching as the gate unlocks and swings open slightly. Immediately he’s met with the large pool and perfectly trimmed bushes that the March pays good money to be maintained. It makes him shudder and he feels out of place in his old t-shirt and cargo shorts. He carefully makes his way down the path that leads to the dock that’s set up behind the mansion.</p>
<p>The yacht is one of the biggest he’s ever seen. It’s another worthless example of how much money the March’s really have. He finds them sitting on the deck of it when he boards.</p>
<p>“Good afternoon, Mrs. March.”</p>
<p>“Oh good, you’re here,” She says, not looking up from her place on one of the longue chairs. She’s holding a metal tanning plate and her sunglasses are too big for her face, “Be a dear and get me sparkling water?”</p>
<p>“I’m the yacht boy, Mrs. March,” Mark gently reminds her.</p>
<p>Mrs. March’s sunglasses slide down her nose to reveal her icy blue eyes as she lifts her head to glare at Mark, “Well, we’re on the yacht, are we not?”</p>
<p>“Yes, we are, but—”</p>
<p>“Then you can get my sparkling water or you can forget about this job,” She sneers, pushing her glasses back up as she relaxes into her chair once more, “I’d hurry. It won’t take too much work to find another piece of trash from The Fall to replace you.”</p>
<p>Mark holds his breath, counting to twenty mentally as he nods and offers a tight smile. He turns and dips into the cabin of the yacht, making a beeline for the mini fridge situated underneath one of the cabinets in the kitchenette area. He pulls out a bottle of the expensive sparkling water Mrs. March seems to live off of and reaches for a tall glass. He makes sure to fill it with enough ice to keep it cold for a while before he twists off the cap and pours the water into the glass. He adds a colorful plastic straw as a final touch and can practically hear chenle screaming about the turtles as he does so. Sighing, he shuffles back to Mrs. March, who takes the drink silently before bidding him away without so much as a thank you.</p>
<p>He makes sure to finish checking up on the rest of the yacht quickly. After determining that everything seems to be in order and that the oxygen tanks for the scuba gear are full, he comes back aboard the deck.</p>
<p>“Everything’s all set,” Mark mutters, wiping his hands on his shirt, “Have a good day, ma’am.”</p>
<p>“Wait,” She calls, pulling out a crumpled up green bill. She tosses it in Mark’s general direction and misses miserably. Mark watches as it lands on the floor nearly a foot from where he stands, “Buy yourself something nice.”</p>
<p>Mark wills his eyes not to twitch and bites on his lip to prevent from frowning. Still, he’s never one to let perfectly good money go to waste. So he bends over and picks up the bill, stuffing it deep into the pocket of his shorts. He leaves without another word.</p>
<p>He miraculously makes it back to the van without bumping into another member of the March family and practically rips the door open to his van, ignoring the way Donghyuck jumps slightly at the action.</p>
<p>“Two minutes was ten minutes ago.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off, Renjun.”</p>
<p>Jaemin giggles at Renjun’s offended glare. Mark turns the key over and takes comfort in the familiar sound of the engine struggling to rumble to life.</p>
<p>“Why couldn’t we have just taken the boat?” Donghyuck asks and then points to the silver bat in his lap, “Cherry makes me want to bash someone’s head in.”</p>
<p>Mark rolls his eyes as Donghyuck rubs lovingly at the bat’s shiny chrome. Donghyuck had first received the bat back in fifth grade and had affectionately named it Boston. It goes everywhere with him now and is his most prized possession, complimenting his anger issues nicely.</p>
<p>“We aren’t using the boat today, remember?” Jaemin reminds him, “Remember the rant where Mark went on and on about how the boat needs maintenance.”</p>
<p>“Must have blocked that one out.”</p>
<p>“That’s because you were wasted out of your mind and too busy busting bottles with Boston to pay attention,” Mark chides.</p>
<p>Donghyuck shrugs and paints a pretty smile on his face, “Sounds about right.”</p>
<p>They pull out of the parking lot and soon Mark is relaxing into seat. The situation that happened at the March’s being pushed to the back of his mind as he cruises past the mansions. He listens to the sound of Donghyuck and Renjun bickering accompanied by Jaemin’s giggles. By the time they’re pulling into the long stretch of blacktop that serves as Chenle’s driveway, he’s forgotten about it completely. He honks the horn, and a couple of seconds later a green haired boy is flying down the steps. A big, burly man follows closely behind, spitting out threateningly, “Chenle don’t you dare get in that car!”</p>
<p>“Sorry dad!” Chenle calls, turning around to wave, “I’ll see you later!”</p>
<p>“Get back here!” His father tries again, but the request falls on deaf ears as Chenle jumps into the van and waves, smiling brightly as he waves. He begins pulling the sliding door closed.</p>
<p>Donghyuck leans out the window again and sticks out his tongue, winking playfully, “Don’t worry, Mr. Zhong! Chenle will probably come home in one piece!”</p>
<p>Chenle's familiar high pitched laugh rings through the van, which makes Jaemin start laughing too. Renjun winces from his spot on the floor and shoves at Chenle with his foot to get him to shut up. From the passenger seat, Donghyuck yelps and falls back into the car, turning to smack repeatedly at Mark's arm, "Go! Go, go, Mark fucking step on it!"</p>
<p>Mark scrambles to do so, quickly switching the gears into drive. He takes off and glances into the rear view mirror, watching as Chenle's dad chases after them.</p>
<p>"Fall trash!" The man calls, making Donghyuck stick his head out the window and promptly flick his middle finger up. Another round of laughing comes from Jaemin. Mark smiles and joins in the laughter, leaning back into his seat as they pull out of the driveway completely and head for the bridge.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Jeno already dislikes Fort One despite only being in town for at least an hour and a half. He genuinely cannot wait until they move again.</p>
<p>Living with a military family isn't always the easiest thing. Jeno has lived in more cities than he can count on his hands, all of them leaving no significant feelings in his heart. He's never around long enough to keep friends, the longest they've stayed in one place was for six months on his mom's last assignment. She's a captain in the Navy, who's never around much because of her job and Fort One is her newest assignment. In a couple days she'll be sent to sea and Jeno will be all alone in this big, unfamiliar mansion with too many bedrooms and scary paintings with eyes that seem to follow his every move. Maybe it doesn’t help that his dad is out of the picture too. He's also in the military, ranked as a General, and is currently stationed in Iraq fighting a war he doesn't have much to do with. Jeno hasn't talked to him in months, neither has his mom for that matter, but he doesn't really care. His dad has been M.I.A for most of life, so really this is nothing new.</p>
<p>Fort One is hot. It’s the kind of heat that comes with humidity that makes the air hard to breathe and makes Jeno's hair frizz. He's sweating in his shirt, despite the fact that the sleeves and sides have been cut out, and his jeans are sitting on him uncomfortably. The air conditioning isn't doing much to help either and Jeno is considering hunting for the thermostat to jack the air conditioner up.</p>
<p>“Isn’t this place wonderful?” His mother asks, watching as the movers carry in their furniture throughout the house as she arranges a new vase full of colorful flowers at the kitchen island, “The house is beautiful.”</p>
<p>The house is beautiful. It’s a huge two story Meditarranean style mansion, complete with the iconic red clay roof tiles and butter yellow adobe exterior. The windows reach from the top of the wall all the way down to the bottom, peaking in between the big stone pillars that help give support to the second story balconies. The yard seems to roll on for acres, full of green and lucious plants and palm trees among the well kept grass. Jeno can see a large pool at the end of the back patio, and the giant dock meant for boats behind it.</p>
<p>“Sure,” Jeno mutters.</p>
<p>His mother sighs and looks up from the flower arrangement she’s been working on, “Would it kill you to try to be just a little more excited? Fort One is beautiful!”</p>
<p>“Fort One is hot,” Jeno argues, “And everyone here seems like a jerk.”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that. You haven’t even met anyone yet,” His mother scolds, “Why don’t you go take a walk? Scope the place out a bit? Maybe you’ll make a new friend.”</p>
<p>Jeno rolls his eyes and hops off the bar stool and mutters, “If we even stay here that long.”<br/>
“I heard that!” His mother calls out just as he turns the corner.</p>
<p>Jeno doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the layout of this house. He feels like he's stuck in a maze with all its twisting hallways and empty rooms. He struggles to find the front foyer and eventually settles to go out the big french doors that lead the back patio instead. Venturing through the backyard, he follows the stone path that winds around the house, weaving his way through all of the workers his mother hired to help with the move.</p>
<p>The front of the house is just as nice as the back, with a long half circle driveway, freshly black topped that bleeds into a nicely landscaped lawn. He makes his way over to a flower patch and bends down, gently running a finger over one of the petals on a pink flower. The only thing he did like about Fort One was that it seemed to be covered in plants from head to toe. It made the air feel cleaner, despite the humidity. It's peaceful, with the way the sun is shining, peeking out through the treetops and giving some shade to the lawn below.</p>
<p>The peace is broken not long after as a shout from across the street stuns Jeno enough that he flinches slightly. His head snaps up in the direction of the offending noise, eyes searching until they land on the house directly across from him. The voice yells out again, “Zhong Chenle! Don’t you dare get in that car!”</p>
<p>Parked in the driveway of the mansion is a very old, very rusted, van that looks as though it was crudely painted with bright teal paint. It was almost as if a child took a bucket of paint and a brush and went to town. The van was very obviously out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of all of the fancy houses that surrounded it. Jeno watched in curiosity as a boy his age quickly scaled the stairs and barreled his way into the van. The owner of the voice followed suit not long after, however he had been slowed considerably by the obstacle of the stairs. It gave the boy running away enough time to slam the door to the van shut just as another boy stuck his head out of the passenger side window, “Don’t worry, Mr. Zhong! Chenle will probably come home in one piece!”</p>
<p>His amusement and curiosity spikes as the boy hanging out of the window falls back into his seat and gestures violently at his friend in the driver’s seat. Then, they’re taking off without another word, zipping down the street and only pausing briefly at the stop sign before taking a left and disappearing around the block.</p>
<p>His mother comes outside soon after, “Oh good! I found you. They called me down to the station, so I have to run. Just let the movers do their thing, they know their job. I’ll transfer some more money into your account tonight so you can get yourself a nice dinner. Don’t wait up.”</p>
<p>Jeno frowns. She’s never had to take off so early before. Her job usually gives her some time to settle in. Nonetheless, he’s not sure why he expected her to stay any longer than she felt she had to. Instead, he bites back the snarky retort on his tongue and asks, “Can I take one of the cars out today?”</p>
<p>His mother’s smile falters just slightly as she blinks in bewilderment. However, after a moment she schools her impression and cocks her head to the side, “What for?”</p>
<p>Jeno shrugs, “You wanted me to explore. I don’t want to walk.”</p>
<p>His mother seems hesitant and in the time it takes her to consider the answer, her phone rings. She pulls it out of her bag and glances at the caller ID. She quickly presses down on the accept button and turns to Jeno, “I have to go. You can take the car, just be careful. Love you.”</p>
<p>She turns, long hair fanning out as she frantically pulls her keys out of her purse and shoves her phone in between her cheek and her shoulder. Jeno’s eyes follow her as she stops at a sleek, black Ferrari long enough to give one last wave to him. Then, she disappears behind the dark tinted windows, pulling out of the driveway not long after.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Sunset Diner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The boy is unbelievably pretty. He makes Jeno’s head spin with the thought of his charming smile, pretty cherry lips pulled upwards to reveal rows of pearly whites. His hair falls perfectly over his forehead, the cotton candy pink color striking against his tan skin. He was the kind of boy that Jeno found himself falling for a lot, the kind of boy that would probably break Jeno’s heart. </p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sound of glass breaking fills the comfortable silence surrounding the crew. The glass shatters, falling down onto the wooden dock with a clatter and into the ocean with a splash, the tiny pieces hitting their respected surfaces and breaking into a thousand more pieces that glitter under the sun. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mark winces at a small shrapnel that goes awry and hits him smack dab in the center of his shin, leaving a small cut behind it as it lands on the sand next to him. He scowls at Donghyuck in retaliation with a dust rag in his hand, “Can’t you move further away?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck grins like he’s in on a government secret, swinging his bat with practiced perfection, “I could, but I don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If glass gets in the boat you’re picking it up,” Mark threatens with a huff. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to be bothered by the threat, instead turning back to swing at another bottle lined up on the ledge of the dock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why you put up with him,” Renjun comments, moving a bucket of soapy water closer to Jaemin, “I say we drown him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up, Renjun,” Donghyuck sneers, pointing his bat in the general direction of where the smaller boy is perched on the deck of Mark’s boat, “Or you’ll be the next thing getting hit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Renjun holds his hands up in mock surrender and goes back to helping Jaemin scrub the deck. Mark sighs at Donghyuck’s response, but does little to reprimand him. He knows better than to interrupt when Donghyuck is in one of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>moods. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a family moving in across the street,” Chenle mentions, taking another long drag of the spiked lemonade Jaemin made earlier in Mark’s kitchen, “I think they have a kid around our age.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great, just what we needed,” Renjun scoffs, “Another stuck up Cherry family.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chenle shrugs, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky, squinting behind the sunglasses he has resting on the bridge of his nose, “Who knows? Maybe they’re nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cherry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Chenle. They aren't nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chenle frowns, “They’re from out of state! They don’t know shit about this place yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck hums, “Sure, but then they’ll find out and soon enough we’ll have another bastard spitting at us on the street and calling us trash.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re always so positive,” Chenle huffs sarcastically, “You really just give the sun a run for its money.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck flips him off just as the gate to Mark’s backyard rattles open and then slams back into place as the newcomer walks from the edge of the property to where the boys are down by the beach. Donghyuck pauses his target practice long enough to look up at the direction the footsteps are coming in, listening to the crunch of the gravel pathway give under the person’s weight until eventually they hit the wood of the dock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Sup, losers?” The visitor calls as they round the corner, finally stepping into view that was once previously covered by the trees and beach shed. He carries a Red Bull energy drink in one hand and his juul and a plastic bag full of snacks in the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jisung!” Chenle screeches, jumping down from his perch to run full speed at the younger boy. He barrels into him with enough force to send them both tumbling to the ground in a mess of chip bags and other various energy drinks as they hit the ground with a thump loud enough to elicit a pained groan from Jisung. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really shouldn’t have tackled him to the ground like that,” Mark sighs, “Hyuck’s got glass everywhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck waves it off and moves to grab the open Red Bull that flew from Jisung’s grip, “A little glass never hurt anyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jisung!” Chenle screeches once more, now making himself comfortable on the younger’s stomach as he shakes at his skinny shoulders, “Did you hear? There’s a new family in town! They’re my neighbors.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool!” Jisung exclaims, sitting up on his elbows with a giant lopsided grin on his face as he searches around for his dropped juul, “Let’s egg them!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are not egging anybody,” Renjun states, tugging on a strand of Jaemin’s pink locks, “You already cleaned that spot. Are you that high?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaemin’s grin resembles the Cheshire cat, “High enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck leans Boston down against the boat, wincing when the bat slips and clangs against the metal siding a bit too loudly, “Egging them would be fun, let’s do it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>egging them,” Mark says with a tone of finality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys are so lame,” Jisung complains around a cloud of smoke, now sitting up with Chenle pulled into his side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what happens when you hang out with old men like Mark and Renjun,” Donghyuck quips, narrowly missing the dirty, soaped up rag Renjun chucks at his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up before I throw Boston into the ocean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do that and I’ll set your house on fire while you’re in it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mark rolls his eyes, “Guys! Seriously? Can you try not to kill each other for longer than two seconds, please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck shakes his head, “That’s above my pay grade.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mark shoots him an incredulous look, “Okay, look, how about instead of egging the poor innocent souls that just moved in, we go see Taeyong and get some free food.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits for an objection but isn't met with one. Smiling, Mark claps his hands together and retrieves his keys from his back pocket, “Great! Get in the van, let’s go eat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should just egg them anyway,” Jisung mutters, beginning the trek back to the front of the house where Mark’s van is parked. Mark watches Chenle trail after him and coughs from the smoke he accidentally inhales when Jisung blows it over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give it up, Jisung,” Mark calls, waiting until the rest of the crew are retreating to the van as well before he follows after them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Sunset Diner has been owned by Taeyong’s family since the seventies, and when Taeyong’s father was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, Taeyong packed up all of his belongings from Los Angeles and moved back across the country to take over the family business. It happened four years ago, when Mark was only thirteen, yet he still remembers it like it was yesterday. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How could he not? It was the talk of Fort One, on both of the islands, for months. Everyone couldn’t shut up about Taeyong Lee giving up his modeling career to come back home and take over the Sunset and care for his poor, sickly father. Lots of folks from Cherry would come down more often to dine in, making their weekly pity trip to the Fallout in fake support of a dying man. Everyone from the Fall knew they saw the opportunity to empty their pockets into what they believed was a charitable cause. It wasn’t hard to miss, not with the way the Sunset was the only place in Fort One where the Fall residents were equal, if not above, of those from Cherry. It was well known that Cherry folks didn’t come around often. Sunset was meant for tourists and residents of the Fall, and that’s that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet Taeyong didn’t seem to mind, accepted the pity and the bigger than usual tips from them with open arms. And when Mark questioned why he didn’t just tell those losers to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck off, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Taeyong had simply winked and ruffled Mark’s hair as he answered, “Free money.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mark remembers sitting there in awe as Taeyong gave him a mischievous grin, one that reminded him a lot of Donghyuck, before he spun away to take more orders. Mark hadn’t known it at the time, but that was truly the time he found a newfound respect for Taeyong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Four years later, now at the age of seventeen, Mark’s still just as starstruck whenever he sees Taeyong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How many times have I told you not to bring that stupid bat into the restaruaunt?” Taeyong asks Donghyuck, wiping his hands on a hand towel as he walks over to their usual table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The towel is slung over his broad shoulder by the time Donghyuck gasps dramatically and cradles his precious bat to his chest, “He’s not just </span>
  <em>
    <span>some stupid bat. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’s got a name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, Boston, my apologies,” Taeyong snickers, drawing out his notepad as he trails his eyes over the familiar group of boys. Mark stiffens up slightly when Taeyong pauses on him long enough to smile, “Hi Mark.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“H-Hi!” Mark squeaks, a pretty pink flush spreading across his cheeks, dipping up the tips of his ears and trailing down to his chest. He clears his throat and tries again, "Hi Taeyong."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaemin snickers next to him. The blaze across Mark's cheeks burns brighter and he buries his face in his arms. Taeyong giggles endearingly before turning to the rest of the group, "The usual then?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A chorus of loud “yes, please!” follows after, leaving Taeyong to scribble in his notepad before leaving with a satisfied smile. Donghyuck waits just long enough for Taeyong to just lift the divider that allows him to go behind the corner before he turns to Renjun, clasps their hands together dramatically, and pouts with an overly squeaky voice, “Oh Taeyong! I would do anything for you! Please accept my love so we can get married, have nine kids, and adopt four dogs! It would mean the world!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Renjun smirks and pulls Donghyuck closer with a chuckle, “I’m sorry, Mark, but you’re only seventeen, and I’m not interested in children!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck flails himself in the opposite direction towards Jaemin, slamming his forehead down onto the younger’s shoulder as he blubbers about how true love isn’t real anymore. Mark is a blushing mess by the time he reaches across the table and smacks Donghyuck as hard as he can, hand making a loud cracking noise as it connects with the back of Donghyuck’s head, “Shut the fuck up!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donghyuck lets out a pitiful whine, rubbing the back of his head as he gives up the fake crying act, mouth tilting up in a smug look, “Aw, don’t be embarrassed. It’s no secret that you’ve got a big, fat crush on Taeyong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most of the Fall knows,” Jisung comments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most of Cherry too,” Jaemin adds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not</span>
  <span>!</span>
  <span>” Mark yelps, then lowers his voice, “I do not have a crush on Taeyong!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm, sure,” Donghyuck drawls, “That’s why you become a stuttering mess every time he’s within a five foot radius of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mark groans in response and pointedly looks away. There’s no way to win an argument when Donghyuck is on the other end of it. He waits until Donghyuck is invested in a conversation with Renjun. Only then does he allow himself to glance at the younger from the corner of his eye and gnaw down on the inside of his cheek as his mind races about all the reasons why he doesn’t like Taeyong. It’s not like it’s because Taeyong’s bad looking, because the man looks like he’s just walked out of one of those fashion magazines the pretty, popular girls in his school carries around, or one of those Japanese comic books Chenle buys for Jisung sometimes. He’s also talented, and caring, and one of the best people Mark knows. Yet, he can’t help but not feel a thing romantically towards Taeyong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why is that, exactly? Mark supposes he already knows the answer. It most likely has something to do with how he’s been head over heels in love with Donghyuck since the sixth grade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He catches himself looking over at Donghyuck again. It’s moments like these where he doesn’t question his feelings, these small moments where Donghyuck is smiling big and bright, his laughter ringing like music in his ears. The sun is high in the sky behind him, illuminating the back of him like he’s one of God’s angels sent from above, his skin shimmering from the body glitter Donghyuck insists on slathering on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mark thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Taeyong’s pretty. But Donghyuck is beautiful. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>___</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite Jeno assuring his mother that he wouldn't venture too far out of the neighborhood, he still found himself crossing over the huge bridge. It wasn’t his fault that the neighborhood seemed boring with his perfectly manicured mansions and the absurd amount of groomed Pomeranians that yipped at him and yanked at their bedazzled leashes whenever he walked by. The bridge was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>there, </span>
  </em>
  <span>begging him to cross over it and discover the uncharted territory hidden on the other side. Jeno didn’t think too much about it when he made his way back to the house using the GPS on his phone and jumped into the driver’s seat of his father’s Mercedes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crossing over the bridge didn’t take too long since it was shorter than it seemed. At first all he could see was rolling plains of land full of trees and bushes, with an occasional field in between. Then, the first house popped up. It was small and run down, almost as if it was going to fall apart with the next gust of wind, and was painted a horrible bright fuschia color. He soon learned that most of the houses looked the same as the first, minus the questionable color choice. The trees open up into the main town, with a view of the ocean off to the left. The town is bustling with life. There’s trucks full of people riding around, the bed stocked full with fish and crates of crabs. The dogs on this side of the bridge are shaggier and seem to run free, and there are cats lazily perched on top of wooden railings and in window sills as they watch flocks of seagulls peck at the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno feels very out of place. The trucks here aren’t the shiny chrome plated ones like the vehicle he’s in. Instead, they’re older models with rust and peeling paint. He gulps as he makes eye contact with a fisherman who offers him a nod of acknowledgment. He drives past carefully, as he’s learned that both the pedestrians and the animals on this side of the bridge seem to just throw themselves out into the street, and then makes a left at the next stop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a diner that catches his eye. The digital clock in the car reads that it’s a quarter past noon. Jeno swears he can feel his stomach tearing itself apart with the lack of food in it. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to skip last night’s dinner and this morning’s breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The diner looks like it’s fairly busy as he pulls into the parking lot, if the abundance of cars is anything to go off of. In fact, he’s pretty sure he recognizes the teal van sitting near the edge of the parking lot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His stomach rumbles as he pulls into the closest spot available. He pats his stomach as he kills the ignition and slides out of the car, listening to the car beep twice as he makes sure to double lock it. The ramp leading up the diner is long and creaks under his weight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bell dings as he pushes open the door. The sound rings high and alerts the dark haired boy behind the counter. He can feel a flush rise on his cheeks, and he thinks he’s kind of malfunctioning when the man walks over like he’s some Victoria Secrets model, however he quickly wills himself to pull it together when he realizes that not only is he staring, but he’s blocking the entrance. The man offers him an amused smile, almost as if he’s used to this, and greets, “Welcome to Sunset. How many?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Jeno says intelligently, glancing around at the establishment, “Just one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just you?” The man hums, picking up a singular menu off of the stack placed next to the register, “You sure about that? You seem uncertain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno blinks, slow as ever, and then nods lightly, “...Just me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, follow me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno does as told and trails after the waiter towards the back of the restaurant. They come to a stop at a booth and Jeno slides into the side the man places the menu down on. The waiter waits until Jeno’s situated before introducing himself, “I’m Taeyong. Can I get you something to drink?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, just water? Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taeyong’s lip curls up at the unsure tone, but he doesn’t say anything else, just nods and makes his way back towards the counter. Jeno shifts awkwardly in his seat and takes the time to look around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The diner looks more like a beach bar, decorated with water related decor. There's a canoe hanging from the ceiling, the walls covered from top to bottom with fishing nets with starfish and fake fish tangled up in them. The walls are decorated with mounted fish, lifesavers, and anchors of various sizes. One wall is completely covered in chalk board paint, full of drawings, scribbles from different customers, and a really impressive mural. The walls are wooden and most of them have tall windows that let the natural sunlight in. There's high tables with bar stools in the middle of the room and booths hugging the surrounding walls. The bar serves as a cashier counter, with a long window that shows a peak of the inside of the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno stops looking around when he can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up as his senses pick up on someone looking at him. He represses the urge to shudder and glances around the room until he makes eye contact with a boy with pink hair a few tables behind him.  He can feel the ever burning redness in his cheeks flare brighter, flushing up to the tips of his ears and down his chest, and he casts his eyes back down to the menu as he whips back around quick enough to give him a mild case of whiplash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy is unbelievably pretty. He makes Jeno’s head spin with the thought of his charming smile, pretty cherry lips pulled upwards to reveal rows of pearly whites. His hair falls perfectly over his forehead, the cotton candy pink color striking against his tan skin. He was the kind of boy that Jeno found himself falling for a lot, the kind of boy that would probably break Jeno’s heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taeyong returns with a tall glass of ice water. He sets it down on a napkin and successfully tears Jeno away from his daydreams, “Have you made a decision as to what you’re going to order?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Jeno finds himself muttering, staring down at the opened menu. He frantically flips it open and scans down the page for something that catches his eye, “Uh, no, actually. I got a bit distracted, sorry. Uh, let me just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’ll take your famous Sunset Burger,” Hums a new voice. Jeno looks up, eyes wide from the surprise of making eye contact with the pretty pink haired boy that is sliding into the booth across from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taeyong grins like he’s in on a secret, yet he keeps his eyes on Jeno, not even offering a greeting to the newcomer, “That sounds alright with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno nods frantically, thankful for the stranger saving him from making a total fool of himself once again, “Yes, thank you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Taeyong chirps and reaches for the menu, “That’ll be right up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy sitting across from him waits a total of five seconds after Taeyong’s sauntering back to the counter before he’s leaning forward to rest his elbows on the edge of the table and rest his chin on the palm of his hand. He gives Jeno a once over and then asks, “Are you new around here? I’d remember a pretty face like yours. Are you a tourist?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno’s heart stutters at being called pretty, the word not helping the everlasting blush residing on his face. He shakes his head and wills himself to utter out, “No. I just moved here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh really?” The boy raises a manicured eyebrow, tilting his head like a puppy, “Are you that new kid from Cherry then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno furrows his eyebrows at the mention of the fruit, “I’m sorry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy grins something bright and roguish at his response, “You don’t have to answer that, I saw you getting out of that Mercedes. She sure is a beauty,” He pauses long enough to glance out the window behind them that gives a small view of the parking lot, “Cherry is the rich area that’s just over the main bridge, by the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Jaemin,” He introduces himself, sticking a hand out across the table, “Welcome to Fort One.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno probably stares at his hand for longer than socially acceptable before he thrusts his own out to clasp around Jaemin’s slightly smaller hand and offers what he hopes is a stable smile, “Thank you. I’m Jeno.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods in acknowledgement, however his attention is suddenly pulled away from the conversation as he furrows his brows and watches something over Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno stiffens up, shrinking back into himself at the gesture, and glances behind him long enough to </span>
  <span>register another boy with grey hair making his way over to them. He startles at the sound of metal scraping against the floor and he finds himself eyeing the aluminum bat the boy drags behind him warily. The boy’s eyes are cold and filled with danger that leave Jeno chilled to the bone. He holds himself with confidence, chin high in the air and shoulders squared back, and he’s practically strutting to the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaem,” The boy calls, voice ringing out in the restaurant and filling into the deepest corners despite him coming to a full stop next to Jaemin, “Mark’s already paid. We’re leaving.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno takes his eyes off the bat to get a good look at the boy’s face, only to jump in surprise when he finds those stone hard eyes already glaring at him. He can feel himself sink back into the booth and draw his shoulders up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaemin sighs from his spot and rifles through the pin covered book bag that sits next to him, “Stop scaring him, Hyuck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hyuck scoffs and flips the bat up so it’s resting against his shoulder, “Renjun isn’t going to like it if he finds out you’re flirting with some Cherry boy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lay off,” Jaemin responds, bending over the table to scrawl something down onto a paper napkin, “I’m not flirting, so Renjun won’t mind. I’m just being a good neighbor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hyuck rolls his eyes so hard Jeno wonders if it hurts, and shrugs, “Whatever, Mark’s not going to wait forever. We gotta go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods and slings the strap of his backpack over his shoulder, shoving the napkin closer to Jeno, “Sorry to leave so quickly, but here’s my number. Call me if you ever want to hang. It was nice meeting you, Jeno.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he’s getting up from the booth and walking out the front door with Hyuck not far behind. Jeno blinks, watching the bell swing as the door closes. He peers down at the napkin resting in front of him where eight digits and a note reading </span>
  <b>
    <em>‘Don’t be afraid to text me, cutie.’ </em>
  </b>
  <span>are scribbled out in neat handwriting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeno smiles, and something warm curls into his chest, fluttering down into his stomach and turning into butterflies that won’t stop doing laps. Carefully, he folds the napkin and tucks it into his pocket for safe keeping. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he’ll like Fort One after all. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Crazy In Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jeno finds it hard to respond. The realization that there is a very big possibility that the voice on the line might, in fact, be Jaemin’s boyfriend has begun to dawn on him. And now that possible boyfriend is very, very upset with him. His pacing begins to pick up, feet carrying him around the room in small circles as he racks his brain, searching for a way to make it out of this alive, “I-I’m sorry, maybe I should hang up?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You know the rules for when I’m gone, right?” Jeno’s mother asks, looking past the compact mirror she’s fixing her lipstick in, “No parties, no girls, no friends over at the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno resists the urge to roll his eyes and shoves another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, “I don’t think you need to worry about that, I don’t have any friends.” He watches as she snaps her compact closed, dropping it into her purse along with the nude lipstick she had been painting on, “Just like I don’t have girls lining up around the corner waiting to have their go at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be crude,” His mother chastises, “Besides, you’d have friends and a girlfriend if you went out and found them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So wait, I’m confused,” Jeno grumbles, brows furrowing, “You want me to find friends but you don’t want me to invite them over? To the house with the pool?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a smartass,” His mother sighs and lugs a heavy duffle bag over her shoulder. She leans down and places a gentle hand on the back of his head accompanied by a kiss on the forehead, “I gotta go. I’ll call. Love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too,” Jeno mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother sends him off with one last smile before leaving the living room. He can hear the front door slam close over the sound of the television. He sighs and redirects his attention to the window, watching as his mother’s Ferrari pulls out of the driveway and disappears down the road. He can’t help but stare down at his half-empty bowl of cereal and no longer feel hungry. The house already feels cold, the atmosphere still and silent enough to drive someone to insanity. It’s much too big for just one person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes land upon the anchor mounted to the wall. It came with the house and has no symbolic relationship with him whatsoever, yet he finds himself thinking about the pink haired boy from the diner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sets the bowl down on the coffee table and shuffles his way into the foyer. The dual grand staircases are ridiculously lavish. They annoy Jeno more than anything, his Converse hitting lightly on the lacquered wood of the left staircase. He manages to not get lost this time, finally having memorized where his bedroom is in the maze of the upstairs layout. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His bedroom is more like a hotel room. It’s decorated with the same nautical theme that goes throughout the entire home and is completely devoid of any personality. The walls are grey this time, which is an upgrade from the boring sandy beige color his last bedroom walls were painted. This time there is a balcony just behind a set of wide french glass doors, which is probably Jeno’s favorite part of the new room, as it makes a perfect spot to read under the moonlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jacket he wore two days ago is still slung over the edge of the ottoman placed at the foot of his untouched bed. The denim is rough under his hands once he picks it up and searches through the pockets for the napkin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small noise of triumph escapes him as he pulls the folded paper out and he unceremoniously dumps the jacket back onto the ottoman. The numbers written in glittery purple gel stare back at him as he fishes his phone out of his back packet, unlocks it, and enters the numbers in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now or never, Jeno,” He mutters to himself, “You can’t be a loser with no friends forever. Just call the cute boy, and everything will turn out okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath stutters as he hits the call button and shakily raises the phone to his ear. The napkin gets crumpled under his strong grip and he can feel his heart beating out of his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone rings and rings until finally, just when Jeno was about to hang up, the line connects.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The voice on the other end answers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, uh, hi!” Jeno stutters, clamping his eyes shut, “Is this Jaemin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long pause on the other side before the voice answers, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No. Who’s this?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, I’m sorry, I just thought this was Jaemin’s number?” Jeno hurries. The embarrassment comes in like waves of a tsunami, coloring his ears down to his chest in a beet red flush, “I must have entered it in wrong, sor</span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is Jaemin’s number. Who are you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m Jeno!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, Jeno, how’d you get Jaemin’s number? What do you want?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>“Uhm, well, he gave it to me? He said to call him, and I just</span><span>—</span> <span>is now a bad time? I can call back later.”</span></p><p>
  <span>There’s some shuffling and then the voice responds, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“He gave it to you? That’s funny. He never mentioned giving his number out to some random boy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno finds it hard to respond. The realization that there is a very big possibility that the voice on the line might, in fact, be Jaemin’s boyfriend has begun to dawn on him. And now that possible boyfriend is very, very upset with him. His pacing begins to pick up, feet carrying him around the room in small circles as he racks his brain, searching for a way to make it out of this alive, “I-I’m sorry, maybe I should hang up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe you should.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno nods to himself and opens his mouth to respond with a quick goodbye, only to be cut off by more rustling. Eventually the audio clears enough for him to hear another voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ren? What are you doing with my phone?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Who’s this Jeno guy and why is he calling you?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ren</span>
  <em>
    <span> snaps. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin sounds surprised as he responds with a confused,</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Jeno? Hand over the phone.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re not cheating on me with some asshole named Jeno, are you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno resists the urge to curl into a ball in the corner of his room. So it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaemin’s boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where did you get that idea from? Give me the phone, Renjun.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Jeno interjects meekly, “I’m just gonna go</span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t hang up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The rustling returns, this time followed by a muffled conversation. Jeno is in the middle considering hanging up, blocking the number, and forgetting this ever happened when Jaemin’s voice comes through the speaker loud and clear. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jeno? It’s Jaemin.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” Jeno apologizes immediately, “I think I shouldn't have called.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, it’s okay! I’m very glad you did!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaemin sighs, sounding sincere despite the tiredness in his voice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry about Renjun. He’s just a tad possessive.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I mean, I guess I wouldn’t like it if my boyfriend—</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin’s laugh comes out airy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We aren’t dating.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Jeno responds smartly. He’s thrown for a loop, and he thinks he can hear an upset grumble in the background just before Jaemin lets out a little whimper. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaemin breaths, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>So, how can I help you?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno can feel his heart jump out of his chest as he responds, “Y-you said to call if I ever wanted to hang, so I called.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Then it’s your lucky day,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaemin sing-songs, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you remember how to get to the diner?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Great! Meet us there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno’s eyebrows furrow, “Who’s us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The gang and I.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...And how many people are in the gang?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six, including me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno doesn’t catch himself in time when he asks, “Is Renjun going to be there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin laughs hard, the sound bright and cheerful as it rings over the speaker, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, but don’t worry. He won’t bite.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I beg to differ.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll see you in a bit, then?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno agrees and soon the line goes dead.</span>
</p><p>----</p><p>
  <span>Renjun is sitting at the end of the bed, arms crossed, and glaring holes into the back of Jaemin’s head by the time he hangs up. He waits until Jaemin has pocketed his phone and turned to face him before demanding, “Who the fuck is Jeno?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin sighs and scans Renjun up and down. The elder’s fists are curled into little balls, which is honestly quite adorable, despite his shoulders being tense, “Ren—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is he?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin rolls his eyes and makes his way over, nudging one knee in between Renjun’s. He steps into the space when Renjun spreads his legs just enough to accommodate Jaemin's size. Leaning down, he gently grazes his lips over Renjun’s and whispers, “Just a new friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun reels back, too used to Jaemin’s games, and tilts his head up to stare at Jaemin’s face. He studies it for a moment and then frowns, “Just a friend? Where did you meet him? You didn’t give your number to some random tourist, did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin laughs and pulls Renjun back towards him, this time running his lips across Renjun’s jawline. He nips playfully, smirking when he feels Renjun jump, “Of course not. He lives in Cherry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems to take a moment for Renjun to process the words, although once he does he’s ripping himself away from Jaemin completely like he’s been burnt. Jaemin splutters and reaches for him again, only to be pushed away once more with a harsh slap to the chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He recoils and rubs at the injury, “Ow! What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cherry?!”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>Renjun hisses, “You’re inviting some loser from Cherry to meet us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin pouts, “He’s new to town.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The response earns him another blow to the arm he’s currently protecting his chest with, “Did you invite Chenle’s neighbor? Are you crazy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin catches Renjun’s wrist when he tries to smack him again, this time pulling the elder into his chest by wrapping a strong arm around his waist. He lets go of Renjun’s arm, ignoring how the smaller immediately aims for his shoulder instead in a series of weak smacks, and places a gentle hand on his cheek. He grins cheekily, kisses Renjun, and whispers, “Crazy in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun blushes hard and he looks awfully pretty under the purple LEDs of Mark’s bedroom. It shines off Renjun’s hair and baths them in a hue of violet. He smiles shyly, eyes casting downwards as he fists Jaemin’s t-shirt and mutters, “Shut up. You’re so annoying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin feels rather smug with himself when he tucks a finger underneath Renjun’s chin and tilts his head back up, eyes searching the other’s with a fond smile stretched across his lips, “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Renjun giggles, leaning up for a kiss that Jaemin is more than willing to provide, “But you’re still annoying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin whines childishly as Renjun pulls away and disappears around the corner. Smiling like an idiot, Jaemin chases after him like a lost puppy. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>cc: hyucksworld<br/>twt: hyvcksworld</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>